“What is all of this?” I managed to whisper, my voice cracking.
“Keep reading, Elena,” the lawyer said gently. “Mr. Samuel wanted you to have the whole truth.”
PART 3
I opened the thick stack of legal papers.
After returning to work, Samuel had hired a private investigation firm in 2005 to track down the teenage mother with twins from that Seattle sidewalk. But with only a first name and a vague description, it took years to piece together my identity.
They finally located me three years ago.
Samuel had learned about my daughter’s illness—the specialized cancer treatments, the mounting hospital debt, and the endless night shifts I was working to keep our heads above water.
The letter continued:
When my investigators found you, I wanted to walk up to your front door immediately. But I learned that your daughter was entering a critical phase of her medical treatment. I knew a sudden intrusion from a stranger might feel overwhelming or unbelievable.
